Today, it’s ten times warmer than it was yesterday. The sun is out, burning brighter than the light of a flashlight in the dead of the night. The birds are chirping peacefully, and I’m humming along. The flowers have bloomed. Girls are walking around in shorts and tank tops, and matching sandals. My mom is sitting next to me on the front porch doing a puzzle. Yesterday, I got a rejection letter from Stanford, my dream college. Maybe this would be a good time to break the news to her. We’re outside, so she can’t do anything to me like yell or grab my shoulders too tight and shake me. And she can’t tell me how stupid I am for slacking in school when I should’ve kept my grades up, because that would escalate into a fight, and that’s not good for her image. But then again, neither is having your daughter go to an in-state college that’s not anywhere near as prestigious as Stanford. This is the third rejection I’ve gotten in the past two months, first from Yale, then Princeton, now Stanford. If she didn’t think of me as a failure before, she’s bound to now.
“Mom,” I say.
She looks up from her puzzle and pulls down her shades, giving me a look as if to say, “Go on.”
“I got a letter from Stanford in the mail yesterday...” I say, shakily.
“So when should we contact the room and board office?” She says, hopefully.
“I did-”
“We could get you some really cool decoration for your dorm, not that you’ll be staying in it too long, because you’ll pledge a few of the sororities there.”
“Mom-”
“And you’ll probably meet a wonderful post-preparatory academy, fraternity boy and fall madly in love with him,” She says, like it’s going to happen.
“Mom, I did-”
“Oh, Lace-”
“MOM!” I yell.
“What’s the matter?”
“I didn’t get in,” I say, my face falling.
“Lacey Penelope Gardner-” she starts, but I cut her off.
“Save the speech, mom. I know what you’re going to say, ‘Lacey Penelope Gardner,’” I say in my best mom-impersonation, “‘You’re a disgrace to the Gardner family, now you’ll have to go the state college and be forced into a lower-class education. How do you think that’ll make me look? Bad, that’s how.’”
“Lacey, I don’t think that you’re a disgrace, but maybe if you would’ve worked harder in your Sophomore and Junior years, you’d have gotten into at least one of the three colleges you applied for,” she says, acting all nice just incase anybody is around to hear.
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” I say as I get up and storm into the house. I turn and walk up the stairs, making my way to my room.



When I get up to my room I throw on my old, tattered All-Star converse, a white v-neck tee, some jean shorts, and a white bandana and race downstairs to the garage. I grab my skateboard and skate out of the driveway and onto the sidewalk. I skate over to my girlfriend Amber’s house, and knock on the door. Mrs. Price opens the door.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call-” I burst into tears.
She comes over to pat me on my back, as if to comfort me, and Amber races downstairs, “Lace! What’s wrong?”?“Mrs. Price?” I say through sobs, “Can Amber and I go to the park for a bit?”
“I guess so, just stay safe,” She says.

Amber goes to grab her skateboard and I wipe my tears, and we skate to the nearest park, a mile away, and grab the nearest bench.
“What the f*** happened over there?” Amber says in her oh-so-sweet way.
“I didn’t get into Yale. I didn’t get into Princeton-”?“Oh no. Don’t tell me-”
“I didn’t get into-”?“Stanford?”
“Uh huh,” I burst into tears once again and she wraps her arms around me.
“Babe,” she says while wiping my tears, “Everything’s going to be okay. You can go to Florida State with me and we can conquer college together. Think of it that way.”
“But-” I breathe, “my mom, she, she wanted better for me. She put so much into my post-secondary education and-” breathe, “and she thinks I’m a disappointment now.”
“Lacey Penelope Gardner,” she kisses my nose, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with going to a state college. Sure, the education isn’t as good as, say, Princeton, but it’s not bad at all.”

I smile, and for the first time since yesterday when I got the letter, I feel okay. Much more together. I mean hey, I’ll get to be with my girlfriend and a few of my other friends, away from my mother, and learning things I want to learn. It’s just college, does it matter where I get my education as long as I get it? I think not.